


Humanoid Typhoons

by SilverFlameAlchemist



Series: Jukebox Drabbles [6]
Category: Trigun
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Accidental Kissing, Angst, Bars and Pubs, Falling In Love, Fluff, Humanoid Typhoon, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, One Shot, Other, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Romance, Song-inspired, Songfic, Surprise! You're In Love!, drunken kisses, reader/various - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10322078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFlameAlchemist/pseuds/SilverFlameAlchemist
Summary: Step One: Don't Fall For Him.Step One Failed.





	1. Painting Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But no matter what message he might have been spreading -from Repent from thy sins to Run for your lives- you always found yourself tagging along for the ride anyway, because something about him was fascinating. And you quickly added that to your mental list of things that just didn't make sense.
> 
> Nicholas D. Wolfwood/Reader

_When I wake up, the dream isn't done._  
_I wanna see your face and know I made it home._  
_If nothing is true, what more can I do?_  
_I am still painting flowers for you…_

Some things in life never made sense to you, no matter how hard you tried.

The way people acted when drunk, for instance, or the way prices on everything kept slowly creeping higher, or even the way a certain Holy Man swore and didn't act very holy, even though he wore crosses as cufflinks and carried around a confessional under one arm.

Then there was the smoking and the drinking and the occasional womanizing, and really, you failed to see how the _Holy_ part of _Holy Man_ applied to him.

He was rough around the edges -and around the chin, given that he had a constantly-perfect amount of stubble sprouting there- and when he crept into a town to protect the innocent and spread the Good Word, you often had to question exactly how innocent they'd been before he'd protected them, and what word he was spreading.

It probably had four to seven letters and wasn't very polite.

But no matter what message he might have been spreading -from _Repent from thy sins_ to _Run for your lives_ \- you always found yourself tagging along for the ride anyway, because something about him was fascinating.

And you quickly added that to your mental list of things that just didn't make sense.

 _Strange maze, what is this place?_  
_I hear voices over my shoulder;_  
_Nothing's making sense at all._  
_Wonder, why do we race?_  
_When everyday we're running in circles,_  
_Such a funny way to fall…_

There was something in the way he looked at you, every time you plopped unceremoniously onto the back of his motorcycle or scrambled onto a bus after him, that made you wonder why he never told you to stay behind.

Never once he did complain about your accompanying him, even when he knew you'd drag him from the bar when you'd thought he'd had enough or kick him under the table when he started making eyes at a woman across the room from you.

He put up with how you treated him the same way you put up with how he treated absolutely everyone else and his general lack of treatment where you were concerned.

He didn't ignore you, per say, but you certainly didn't feel like you were on the top of his priority list. You were always gently guided to walk just behind him and to one side, kept within easy reach and plain view.

When you weren't tramping about through town, and actually managed to find a place to spend the night, he never let you get your own room, so you had to share.

Not that you minded knowing he was within reach if you needed him, but he had a nasty habit of smoking in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep, and when he felt too lazy to get up and open a window, it was a nasty smell to wake up to.

But despite that, despite all his quirks and questionable tendencies, you found that you kind of liked how unique he was, and when he would actually take the time to unwind and open up, you found he was a really good listener.

And then he'd crack a joke and go back to being all shady and stoic and smoking like a _chimney_ , and you'd have to put up with it until the next time you managed to break down his walls enough to get him to talk seriously.

But for one reason or another, you were always looking forward to it.

 _Show my cards,_  
_Gave you my heart,_  
_Wish we could start all over._  
_Nothing's making sense at all._  
_Tried to open up my eyes,_  
_I'm hoping for a chance to make it alright…_

"Do you know why I do the things I do?"

You knew he was drunk the instant he opened his mouth, the words slurring in an oddly cute way.

"I do the things I do," he continued without answer from you, "because I don't want anything to happen to you, because that would be _tragic_." He emphasized the last word by looking over at you and smiling slightly. "Never forgive myself, if that happened."

You chuckled, moving over to him and gently taking the bottle from his limp fingers before you started to take off his jacket, intent on getting him into bed so he could sleep it off.

He grinned cheekily up at you. "Can't keep your hands off me, huh? Can't say I blame you… I have trouble keeping my hands off you, too." He paused, realizing what he'd just said and blinked hard. "Whoops."

Your eyebrows shut up your forehead and you stared at him. "What was that?"

"I… Uh…" He rolled his eyes, mumbled something along the lines of _to hell with it_ , and pulled you into a very sloppy kiss. Before you had the chance to respond, though, he was passed out and snoring softly.

You had to laugh, because somehow that was just like him.

The next morning found him rubbing his head and swearing quite frequently as memories of the night before came back to him and he sent you apologetic looks.

"Look, I…"

You stood up, cutting him off. "If you're about to apologize, don't." You kept your tone cool as you moved over to him, giving him an annoyed look as you leant in close and fought back a giggle at the terrified expression on his face. "You're a pretty good kisser even when you're drunk."

It took him a second to process that sentence before he was blinking and smiling, and back to his usual self, but with perhaps a bit more pep. He snagged another kiss before he delegated that it was time for breakfast, and dragged you out of the room by the hand, a broad grin still spilling over his face.

You couldn't help the smile that painted itself over your own lips as you followed him. You still might not be able to make perfect sense of him, but you decided that would just come with time…

 _When I wake up, the dream isn't done._  
_I wanna see your face and know I made it home._  
_If nothing is true, what more can I do?_  
_I am still painting flowers for you…_

_"Painting Flowers" by All-Time Low_


	2. Kryptonite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was probably the big-brother vibe that you got from him that made you like being around him so much. The goofy grins and hair-ruffling and teasing and nudging and generally adorable behavior. The things he did that made you feel special, because you knew no one else ever got treated like that.
> 
> Vash the Stampede/Reader

_If I go crazy then will you still_  
_Call me Superman?_  
 _If I'm alive and well, will you be_  
 _There holding my hand?_  
 _I'll keep you by my side_  
 _With my superhuman might_  
 _Kryptonite..._

People knew him on sight now, when you walked into a town. They stared and pointed and whispered behind their hands. They gaped and gawked and generally just stood in shock and amazement as he walked by.

But they never knew who you were. The girl that followed him around and was always there to back him up or bail him out if things went south. The sidekick that always shook her head and rolled her eyes at his antics, but never turned her back on him.

It was probably the big-brother vibe that you got from him that made you like being around him so much. The goofy grins and hair-ruffling and teasing and nudging and generally adorable behavior. The things he did that made you feel special, because you knew no one else ever got treated like that.

You felt special when he caught your arm when you tripped or teased you when you checked out a boy on the other side of the bar, when he gave you _that_ look and never had to say anything along with it because that look worked wonders.

You stayed because you liked the way he treated you, the way he made you feel. You liked knowing that no matter what other people said or did, you would always get those looks from him because you were special to him.

And he was special to you too.

 _I took a walk around the world_  
_To ease my troubled mind_  
 _I left my body laying somewhere_  
 _In the sands of time_  
 _But I watched the world float_  
 _To the dark side of the moon_  
 _I feel there's nothing I can do…_

There were times when things went wrong, of course, and you tried to ignore the twisting in your stomach when you saw him stumble back in to wherever you were staying with a hand clutched to whatever wound he'd sustained and that crooked, sad smile plastered over his face.

He always apologized for worrying you, and you always told him to just stop it, because that wasn't helping. And then he'd give you a look that made your heart skip beats, and you hated that, because it wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair that he could just _look_ at you, and you felt yourself falling. It wasn't fair that you couldn't keep the flush from your face once he was safely asleep, and it _wasn't fair_ that you couldn't just curl up next to him and tell him how you felt.

The looks, the actions, the words, they all reminded you how much older he was, how _ancient_ his mind was behind that spiky blond hair and those soft, sea-foam eyes. How much he'd lived through and how much he would still have to go through before his time was over. How there was no way you'd ever end up together, because you were so naïve compared to him.

And you spent hours awake in the dead of night wishing you'd never met the man in the long red coat who'd stolen your heart so easily and kept you so close and yet never let you in further.

The man with secrets woven into his soul, who'd spent his entire life running and had never once slowed down.

The man who could crumble your walls with a single glance, and had stolen your heart with nothing more than a smile and a few soft words.

 _I watched the world float_  
_To the dark side of the moon_  
 _After all I knew it had to be_  
 _Something to do with you_  
 _I really don't mind what happens now and then_  
 _As long as you'll be my friend at the end..._

You'd made up your mind to get over Vash. To move on and try to find someone else who could make you feel just as special as the infamous Humanoid Typhoon.

But whenever you tried, you always found something wrong. Something lacking. And whenever you turned to look back at your companion there was a look in his eyes that you couldn't quite place, and you wondered if it had always been there, or if you'd put it there by not being by his side when he needed you.

You worried and fretted and wondered if you'd accidentally added a scar to his collection, and what it would look like if you'd been able to see it.

But he never said what was wrong, because that wasn't the kind of man Vash was. He still smiled and joked and ruffled your hair. Still chided you for one thing or another and still made you feel special even though you didn't feel like you deserved it anymore. He still gave you those looks, and your heart still skipped beats.

He was still the same even though you knew there was something going on just beneath the surface that wasn't pleasant or okay, and it bothered you that he never mentioned it.

And when he smiled at you, it cut you up inside, because you wanted so badly to smile right back, but you couldn't anymore, because some things were never going to be the same after this.

 _You called me strong, you called me weak,_  
_But still your secrets I will keep_  
 _You took for granted all the times_  
 _I never let you down_  
 _You stumbled in and bumped your head,_  
 _If not for me then you'd be dead_  
 _I picked you up and put you back_  
 _On solid ground..._

You got reckless after that. You threw yourself into senseless battles, and suddenly Vash was the one pulling you back from the edge instead of the other way around.

You'd stay up so late you'd get slap-happy, and start saying things that normally would never have come out of your mouth, and you saw the tiny line that formed between his eyebrows when he helped you to bed, and you wanted to kiss it away and tell him to stop it, because that was supposed to be your job.

He worried about everyone, whether he knew them by name or not, and someone had to worry about him for a change or else he'd just fade into the distance one day and be forgotten, and that would be a tragedy.

So you clawed your way back to sanity and placed your feet firmly on the ground and reminded yourself that no matter what happened, no matter how fast your pulse raced or how many beats your heart skipped, Vash was worth sticking by because someone had to look after him, and you didn't trust anyone else with the job.

Those smiles came back, and that line between his eyebrows finally eased away, and he went back to being himself. But there was something there that you hadn't noticed before, and one night when he was a little tipsy, you pressed your lips to his in order to find out what it was.

He pushed you away, stammering about how he didn't want to hurt you, and getting you involved would only end in sadness, and he loved you more than anything and _never_ wanted you to be put in jeopardy.

You told him you were already involved and that he was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

And he gave you that look that you'd seen a thousand times, the one that spoke volumes and volumes of silent feeling, and pulled you into a hug that was tighter and warmer than any of the others, because he'd finally given in.

He'd finally stopped fighting, and whispered into your ear all the things he'd been keeping back. All the times he'd wanted to tell you how he felt, or wanted to kiss you because you deserved it, or the times he'd nearly screamed because he thought he'd lost you to one foe or another.

You whispered back secrets of your own, telling him of all the times his smiles had taken your breath away, or when he'd given you one of his notorious looks and you wanted to drag him off to your room and not let him out for a week. You told him it had killed you inside to see him pretend you were never more than a friend.

He told you that you _were_ a friend. The _best_ of friends. The one he hoped would never leave him, because he hated saying goodbye, and he'd miss you more than anything.

And you laughed and promised him with kisses and hushed whispers that you'd always be by his side, because there was no one else who could compare.

He'd gone four shades of red and greatly resembled his coat by the time he finally pulled you over to the bed and passed out with you in his arms.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn't spend any time worrying about him, because you knew that he was yours, and you were his, and you'd always be each other's.

 _If I go crazy then will you still_  
_Call me Superman?_  
 _If I'm alive and well, will you be_  
 _There holding my hand?_  
 _I'll keep you by my side_  
 _With my superhuman might_  
 _Kryptonite..._

_"Kryptonite" by 3 Doors Down_

**Author's Note:**

> Trigun and All Related Characters belong to: Yasuhiro Nightow


End file.
